Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Not the type of **** to brag, my lady got it all
Aye, yeah, she poppin' but never poppin' off
Plus she bad and bougie to top it off
Tell whoever trippin' they can knock it off
Not the type of **** to brag, lil' baby got it all, yeah
Am I wrong to just want to show you off?
Aye, only right I chop it, the top is off
So tell whoever trippin'
[Verse 2]
You the type that make me boss up
I been coolin' but you movin' with some hot stuff
Might just blow it, it don't matter what it cost us
Baby, bring it to the table like a potluck, yeah
And they be tellin' me it's not love
But they don't know who they speakin' on, it's not us
You can't tell me what you got, it's not drugs
'Cause I'm addicted, can you come and let me cop up, yeah
[Verse 3]
And girl, you got me locked up
They won't let me out
Dealing with these bitches, they just stress me out
You the one I want to come and bless me now, ah
Right now like, right now like
[Verse 4]
Not the type of **** to brag, my lady got it all
Aye, yeah, she poppin' but never poppin' off
Plus she bad and bougie to top it off
Tell whoever trippin' they can knock it off
Not the type of **** to brag, lil' baby got it all, yeah
Am I wrong to just want to show you off?
Only right I chop it, the top is off
So tell whoever trippin' they can knock it off
[Verse 5]
Don't talk, just pay attention
Even good girls gotta pay commission
Word on the street is that you got it all
I wanna press every button till you turn bad
Joint in my mouth for the look, baby
I'm the type you read about in the newspaper
I'm the type to take you out in the new Mercedes
Windows down, music loud, I was born to make it
I slide right in, them fresh seats is satin
Talk still cheap, I'm about those actions
Real satisfaction, true thug passion
She look good in high heels, open toes, Air Max's
[Verse 6]
I'm not the type of **** to brag, my lady got it all
Aye, yeah, she poppin' but never poppin' off
Plus she bad and bougie to top it off
Tell whoever trippin' they can knock it off
Not the type of **** to brag, lil' baby got it all, yeah
Am I wrong to just want to show you off?
Aye, only right I chop it, the top is off
So tell whoever trippin' they can knock it off
[Verse 7]
Ah, yeah, uh
Yeah
Got it all
She got it all
That **** blast
Dom Kennedy
Still getting fly
Written by: Dominic Hunn, Marshall Sherman, Matthew Burdette, Philip Pugh, Tahj Miller
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